now who you are."

"The fewer that know the better. But I'll always remember her kindness
and that bally pistol with the fan in it. But you? Why did you bother to
bring me up here?"

"Couldn't decently leave you where Karlov could get to you again."

"Is Stefani Gregor dead?"

"Don't know; probably not. But we are hunting for him." Cutty had not
explained his interest in Gregor. Those plaguey stones again. They were
demoralizing him. Loot.

"You spoke of Karlov. Who is he?"

"Why, the man who followed you across half the world."

"There were many. What is he like?"

"A gorilla."

"Ah!" Hawksley became galvanized and extended his fists. "God let me
live long enough to put my hands on him! I had the chance the other
day--to blot out his face with my boots! But I couldn't do it! I
couldn't do it!" He sagged in the chair. "No, no! Just a bit groggy. All
right in a moment."

"By the Lord Harry, I'll see you through. Now buck up. Hear that?" cried
Cutty, throwing up a window.

"Music."

"Look through that street there. See the glint of bayonets? American
soldiers, marching up Fifth Avenue, thousands of them, freemen who broke
the vaunted Hindenburg Line. God bless 'em! Americans, every mother's
son of 'em; who went away laughing, who returned laughing, who will go
back to their jobs laughing. The ability to laugh, that's America. Do
you know how to laugh?"

"I used to. I'm jolly weak just now. But I'll grin if you want me to."
And Hawksley grinned.

"That's the way. A grin in this country will take you quite as far. All
right. In five years you'll be voting. I'll see to that. Now back to bed
with you, and no more leaving it until the nurse says so. What you need
is rest."

Cutty sent a call to the nurse, who was standing undecidedly in the
doorway; and together they put the derelict back to bed. Then Cutty
fetched the photograph and set it on top of the dresser, where Hawksley
could see it.

"Now, no more gallivanting about."

"I promise, old top. This bed is a little bit of all right. I say!"

"What?"

"How long am I to be here?"

"If you're good, two weeks," interposed the nurse.

"Two weeks? I say, would you mind doing me a trifling favour? I'd like a
violin to amuse myself with."

"A fiddle? I don't know a thing about 'em except that they sound good."
Cutty pulled at his chin.

"Whatever it costs I'll reimburse you the day I'm up."

"All right. I'll bring you a bundle of them, and you can